TOW They're Happily Married
by itsafour
Summary: It seemed to him like he'd just needed her to unleash this man. - This is set in season 8. It's just some mushy mondler through Chandler and Monica's musings on their married life. Domestic mondler makes me happy.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note: I feel like I'm always in need of some domestic mondler fics, so I decided to write one myself, haha. This is mostly born from all the comments of how Chandler "wasn't that funny anymore after he married Monica". Comments like this personally make me sad because, well, for one, I don't think he stopped being funny. And, most importantly, I just believe he was much less freaking out than he used to be, and we all know Monica's love was the reason why he was finally feeling so safe. This became a little rant, so let me shut up now, haha. I hope this is enjoyable.**_

* * *

Chandler gets home around 8PM after getting seriously caught up at work. He's a little surprised by seeing his living room so dark at that time of the evening. Monica must be running a late shift today, he muses, which he confirms when he checks the messages on the answering machine.

"Hey, sweetie. I'll probably be home late today. It's a little hectic around here. There are still leftovers from lunch, help yourself. Love you." He smiles at her voice, remembering the delicious lunch he's had earlier and already excited to have some more of that.

He doesn't even bother turning the lights on; just goes straight to their bedroom, getting ready for a quick shower. After he's done washing his busy work day out of his body, he heats his food and eats alone in the dim light of their little kitchen. He wonders where everybody else is at this moment – the apartment is never really this empty in the evening. He notices somehow that, lately, it feels like their friends have been nowhere to be found a lot more than usual. Whether it's because of the combination of Rachel current pregnant state getting herself and Joey busy plus Ross's new girlfriend Mona plus Phoebe getting involved into… something, or just the gang realizing Chandler and Monica were a relatively newlywed couple in need of privacy – he would never know. Albeit having serious boundary issues, their friends were unbelievably thoughtful of each other, so it was just hard to take a guess. He sighs, concluding he could be thankful for that anyway.

Chandler then realizes he's been alone for an hour or so in a dark apartment, and startles himself by noticing how calm he was.

Being calm and relaxed was definitely NOT part of his normal self, so he startles himself even more by noticing he's been like this for a while now.

Chandler gathers his plates, washing the dishes thoroughly (he was tired, Monica would get home tired, she didn't need any more useless work, he didn't need any nagging), and heads to the couch. He aimlessly turns on the TV, just letting it play in the background while his thoughts on his current life keep running around his brain.

Getting married had been scary as fuck, but being married has been surprisingly soothing. He almost couldn't believe how much he's changed and how much calmer he looked to everyone. The jokes were still there, his wit, thank goodness, would never cease making an appearance, but everything that made him squirm around and yell in despair and sweat like crazy was just gone.

He was alone, completely alone, his beautiful wife not home, and a situation like this would probably flood his mind with a million terrifying sceneries in which his friends had been murdered or his wife had been cheating, but, instead, he was just comfortable, feeling at peace, feeling safe.

When had everything changed like this? Had it really been when they started dating? Or was it the engagement night? He managed to freak the day before his wedding, so he surely wasn't done with being all chandler-like. Was he ever going to be done with being chandler-like? Did he have to be done with that? Couldn't he be just a mellow, more centered Chandler? Wasn't this man he currently presented always there anyway?

It seemed to him like he'd just needed her to unleash this man.

Her. It was definitely her.

Losing track of time, he gets tired of the noise coming from the TV and decides to turn it off and leave the couch for something more comfortable, like their bed. He's just gotten into their bedroom when he hears the front door open. Probably noticing the dim lights and empty living room, Monica goes straight to their bedroom.

"Hi, honey!" They share a quick peck on the lips.

The dialogue feels familiar, like their routine. He asks her if she'd eaten, to which she replies affirmatively. She then goes on talking about her busy day, ranting on how the staff on her restaurant acted like amateurs sometimes and how she had the feeling the weight of the world was on her shoulders, all of this while taking off her clothes and changing into her bathrobe. She leaves the room for a comforting hot shower, leaving her husband once more alone with his thoughts.

Six years ago, he had freaked out about his gloomy lonely future. He hadn't been kidding then. He had actually believed every word he said, and had been trying to get ahead of life's cruel little game by already figuring out some sort of hook to fill the void of his future bitter hermit life. His friends had all tried to cheer him up, but all Chandler could think was how easy it was for them to do that, considering they would all obviously be with someone they loved anytime soon. They were deserving of love, he'd thought, not him. Not once had he believed he would have a good future with a lovingly wife. Even now, he wonders if he's burned all good luck in his life the moment he and Monica fell in love.

It wasn't just that he was happily married. He was happily married to Monica. Had someone told him this, years ago, he would probably laugh-cry at the cruelty of the joke. However, it was real. His wife, Monica!, was taking a shower in the next room. She would probably want some sex before going to bed, and they would sleep together and wake up together again the next day.

He got so used to this wonderful life that now that he's just thinking about it he feels like he could burst into flames from the sheer amount of happiness.

She comes back at that moment. Indeed they have some quick passionate sex before he lies on his back ready to sleep, his beautiful wife cradling her head on his chest, resting her hand on his stomach, already breathing heavily as she dozes off.

Chandler is not used to feeling peaceful. He's not used to being calm and relaxed. He's not used to happiness. It is a little bit unsettling, a little bit unnerving, and a whole lot surprising. The realization of it doesn't faze him though. He's not scared. He knows everything he needs to be okay is lying in his arms right now – and it isn't going anywhere.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note: Well, it felt incomplete without Monica's version, so here it is. :)**_

* * *

Her day off had been surprisingly busy, the gang being around all day long. Chandler had gotten home and they were still there, hanging out through the night, all six of them eating and talking as usual up until the point they decided it was time to leave.

Monica remembers the day they came back from their honeymoon, a moment when Chandler was away and she not so subtly hinted at the possibility of their friends leaving the couple alone for a while. She was actually surprised to notice they've complied; their apartment was emptier than usual for a couple of months. It didn't take long though, and soon they were all barging into each other's door as usual. She couldn't really resent her friends for it – the aforementioned couple loved them very much, and felt like they could enjoy their company even after having a new married routine.

At the moment, the apartment's dark already. She's just getting ready for a relaxing bubble bath; Chandler had gone to the bathroom first, the recent acquired skill of preparing a bath completely perfected. He was a fast learner.

This was one of their most recent together activities. She thought about taking a magazine with her to the bathroom, but decided it wouldn't be needed. The last times they took a bath together she'd preferred enjoying the silent company or the talking that would eventually ensue.

Monica smiled at that. They've been together for what? Over three years? And they truly were still best friends. There wasn't a moment she felt like they didn't have anything to talk about, and the silent moments were comfortable instead of frightening. This was actually one of the things she noticed right after the first times they've slept together – she just knew that having that strong friendship basis would make the relationship much more comfortable than she could ever imagine. It was just sex and talking and sex and talking for a long time, and it remained pretty much the same – when they could have their alone time, that is.

She notices she's still standing there in their bedroom for some minutes now, ready to go however doing nothing but thinking; so she finally leaves the room.

When she gets into the bathroom, Chandler's already inside the bathtub, resting his body, closed eyes and everything. She chuckles at how cute he still looks in bubbles, and gets into the tub herself. He opens his eyes for a second, smiling at her, and gets back to closing his eyes. He looks as if he's about to fall asleep anytime soon. Monica just sits there and lets her mind wander.

Yeah, they were really comfortable around each other. She felt like she didn't really need to hide anything from him – she wasn't nervous about any aspect of her personality, and that was definitely new for her.

Just a few days earlier, he had broken into her secret closet, which made her feel anxious, but it wasn't much about his reaction toward her secret but much more about herself feeling uneasy with that side of her life. Somehow, he was more okay with "that side" than she was. And that situation presented itself quite frequently.

She knew her friends – especially her girl friends –, didn't really see them as a great romantic couple. Sometimes they would even suggest she could do better. It used to sting when she heard those comments, but it doesn't anymore. Their relationship was theirs. It belonged to them only. It had nothing to do with their friends, as much as they loved the gang. If they couldn't really see how supportive and sweet he was to her, she couldn't care less about it. The important thing was being together with her husband, creating new memories, being able to feel safe, to feel at peace, in a way she had never expected before. Their love was strong and steady, and even though she always saw herself as a romantic woman, she'd noticed, as time went by, that big romantic gestures could be empty – she needed the real thing. He gave her the real thing. Every day.

"What?" His amused voice got her out of her musings. "Like what you see, huh? Want some sweet loving?"

She rolled her eyes at him, but actually moved to get closer to her man.

Monica rested her back on his chest, her head on his shoulder, feeling his arms move to wrap around her. His long hair was dripping wet, tickling her face a little. She was so, so, so comfortable it was almost scary.

"Shut up and just hold me." She answered, with an annoyed tone she knew he would recognize as fake.

Monica is not used to feeling peaceful. She's not used to being calm and relaxed. She's not used to happiness. It is a little bit unsettling, a little bit unnerving, and a whole lot surprising. She doesn't take it for granted though. She knows he works hard to make her happy, and she works hard to keep him feeling safe; they complete each other. Everything she needs to be okay is wrapping his arms around her – and it isn't going anywhere.


End file.
